"No, sir," said Freddie.
Aunt Amanda looked at him, as he sat so seriously on his hassock at her feet, munching his fruit-cake and sipping his lemonade; and she pulled out her pocket-handkerchief and blew her nose again, very loud. She appeared to have a cold. Toby paid no attention to her; his head was lying sidewise on his left arm on the table, and he was squinting at the sheet of paper, and every time his pen came down he closed his mouth tight, and every time his pen went up he opened his mouth wide. Freddie and Aunt Amanda had plenty of time to talk. Under the softening influence of fruit-cake and lemonade Freddie found his tongue.
"What's a Churchwarden?" he said suddenly into the lemonade-glass, which was just under his nose.
"Bless the baby!" said Aunt Amanda.
"It's a long clay pipe, young man," said Toby, chewing the end of his pen-holder, "like you've seen in the case out there in the shop."
"That ain't what he means," said Aunt Amanda. "You mean a man, don't you, Freddie?"
"Yes'm," said Freddie, looking at the cake just going into his mouth.
"It's a man," said Aunt Amanda, "it's a man that belongs to a church, and he stands guard over the church property, and sees to the repairs, and beats little boys with a cane when they make a noise during service, and takes care nobody don't run away with the collection money, and——"
"How do you spell 'respectfully'?" said Toby, scratching his head with the pen. "Yours respectfully."